i first read No Name in the Street by James Baldwin two years ago, largely during a weekend alone, feeling very sorry for myself. the book stays with me, lines pop up again and again, the man was merciful enough to tell us about ourselves. the book is sears, painful at first and then i found myself warmer, more at ease.
he writes, comparing the orientation of white children and black children to education — “White children, in the main, and whether they are rich or poor, grow up with a grasp of reality so feeble that they can very accurately be described as deluded—about themselves and the world they live in.”1
he goes on “People who cling to their delusions find it difficult, if not impossible, to learn anything worth learning: a people under the necessity of creating themselves must examine everything, and soak up learning the way the roots of a tree soak up water.”
reading these lines again, i feel less judgment and more sadness, about the conditions that lead us (me) to cling to our (my) delusions.
this has been a season of delusions shredding, of the veil being pulled back, in the world at large and in my own life. i’m asking myself how i can tell the truth more often.
these two lines again and again:
“They [white people] need desperately to be released for one thing, from the necessity of lying all the time.”2
“But I could see that the difficulties were not going to be where I had confidently placed them—in others—but in me.”3
little by little, truer.